Collision
by Oparu
Summary: Chakotay and Kathryn meet and share an intimate moment during Beverly Crusher's hen night.     Missing scene from Synthesis. Precedes Acceptable Risk, but you don't need to read either.


"No, no, no don't-" Kathryn pleaded half-heartedly.

The cool champagne flute in her hand was cool and still half full. As Chakotay moved closer to her on the bed in Ambassador Troi's quarters, she wondered what she'd been thinking. This was Beverly's party, and she was hiding away with a man she'd barely met.

To be fair, she'd just met Beverly. In a way, she felt like she'd just met herself. Chakotay did something to her, twisted her perception and put more colour into the world.

Chakotay pulled her champagne glass out of her hand and set it on the table by the bed. "You might spill it," he murmured, kissing her temple.

The press of his lips against her skin made her shiver. It was wrong, so terribly wrong, being with him when she had Mark-

Who was light-years away, on Earth, and would never know anything about Chakotay, because he didn't like the _Enterprise_. He was too good for space travel. He didn't want to live on a starship, didn't want to leave Earth and be with her.

And she was fine with it, of course. She was always all right with taking the assignment that kept her close to the planet, brought her back every few weeks and kept their relationship going. Not all starships were ready for civilians or as comfortable as living on Earth.

"I'm going to be on the _Enterprise_," she murmured aloud. "The _Enterprise_. Not a freighter or an old science ship with tiny quarters, the blessed by Utopia Plantia, pride of the Federation, god damn _Enterprise_."

Chakotay stroked her hair back out of her face. "I hear it's a nice ship."

"You bet your ass it's a nice ship," Kathryn chirped. "It's the god damn _Enterprise_-D. It's such a nice ship they made four. Damn, five," she corrected herself. "I always forget the NX. Don't know why. It's not like it wasn't an _Enterprise_."

"Which are all very nice ships," he answered, smiling.

"Wanna see it?" she purred.

Running her hand lazily up Chakotay's chest in response, she wondered if anyone would be coming into the bedroom. Beverly's party was still going strong in the next room and the music pulsed pleasantly through the wall.

"Do you want do see Lwaxana do her living vine trick?" Chakotay asked pleasantly, tilting his head towards the door.

"No."

Kathryn toyed with his collar, then caressed his chin. "Dammit. Actually, you can't see the _Enterprise_. It's being repaired. Beautiful, shiny new plasma conduits and ODN lines."

"You have temporary quarters on the station," he reminded her. When she passed her finger over his lips, he kissed it. "Just like I do."

"They're not as nice as these," Kathryn sighed. Looking around the somewhat blurry bedroom, she flopped down on the bed they had ended up sitting on. "I guess it's good to be an ambassador, isn't it?"

"Ambassador Troi holds a prestigious position," Chakotay agreed amiably. "She uses it well. It's a great party."

"Is it?" Kathryn asked gloomily looking up at the ceiling. She folded her hands over her stomach and wondered why her entire mouth tasted like champagne. Licking her lips, she sat up and reached for the flute.

"Don't you want to be out there?" she asked, swirling her glass and watching the bubbles slip from their places on the inside. "In the party?"

"Believe it or not, Commander Kathryn Janeway of the _Enterprise_, you're quite entertaining in your own right," he promised. Lying down by her side, he watched her finish her champagne with that secretive smile.

"You don't drink," she said.

"i don't drink much," he corrected. "I don't like what it does to my head and synthehol just tastes replicated."

"It is replicated."

"That must explain it then," Chakotay said, chuckling. "We don't have to do anything more than this," he offered, turning his head towards her. "I'm entirely content just talking to you."

"I'm rambling-"

"I like it-"

"I'm a bit drunk-"

"That's endearing-"

"It's not."

Chakotay leaned over her to take the empty flute from her hand. He set it down again, pressing his body ever so deliciously across hers as he moved. Kathryn sighed and closed her eyes as she ran her hand up his arm. It was firm and muscular beneath his incredible soft shirt.

"It is," he finished the argument and lowered his lips to hers.

This kiss captured her mouth, enrapturing all the nerves within so they only reacted in response to him. The only response her flesh could come up with was a tingling desperation that raced through her body. Kathryn sighed into it, folding her body into his arms and rising to meet his lips.

"Okay," she whispered back, almost shy because he was so attracted to her. Mark didn't kiss her like that, or she didn't react like this. Maybe it was both. It could be both, or the alcohol or some kind of rogue radiation that made her behave badly.

And this was bad.

So. Very. Bad.

Bad in the way fully clothed, pressed against each other making out was so juvenile of them that she couldn't resist. Bad in the way that would have kept her father from speaking to her and made her mother smirk that all-too-knowing smile if she'd gotten caught at home. Bad like being underneath hay bales, not looking at the stars.

She was on top of him when Ambassador Troi passed them by in the dark. Kathryn wouldn't have guessed it was her, surely the telepath knew exactly what his hand was doing to her ability to think, trapped as it was between her thighs. Yet, the renowned Ambassador said nothing about the two of them defiling her bed, and the swish of her dress was absolutely unmistakable.

Chakotay didn't even stop kissing her, which was pretty removed from bad.

Kissing was good. More intoxicating, incredible and oh-so-achingly wonderful than champagne. Between his tongue against hers and the hands on her back, kissing would remain enough for the next few moments.

Then she wanted him: hard and desperate, like the oppressive wet heat of an Indiana summer. That was bad, wasn't it? She wasn't even thinking about her fiancé. Kathryn's head was wrapped up in herself and the tingling, demanding need for sex.

"We shouldn't," she whispered, breaking from his lips.

Chakotay kneaded her breast through the thin fabric of her dress. "Lwaxana doesn't mind that we're here."

How could he know that? Kathryn paused, studying him for a moment. Was he secretly telepathic? Was that why he knew her so well? "She doesn't?"

"She's Betazoid," Chakotay explained gently. "Understanding and openness are part of their culture."

Caught between disbelief and wanting to go along with his statement, Kathryn glanced over her shoulder at the door. Lwaxana had seen them, and with her mind, she had definitely felt them. She'd said nothing. She didn't care-

_"Oh just kiss him."_

If she'd been sober, Kathryn might have questioned how the words that weren't hers appeared in her brain. Since she wasn't, she took their unsolicited advice and lowered her lips to Chakotay's patient ones. Kissing her back eagerly, he ran his hands up her thighs. The feel of his palms against her bare skin made her shiver. He eased the dress further up and she kissed down his neck. They wouldn't have time to be careful or slow.

The lack of time took none of the sweetness out of the press of his body against hers. She'd been lonely, empty and lost. Being with him now was a stolen moment, something she barely allowed herself, and perhaps would not have if it were not for the real alcohol filling her blood. Maybe she had him to blame: the way Chakotay looked at her was hungry, wanting, even needy. How long had it been since she needed anyone, or let herself be that aching spark that drove someone mad with fire.

Mark was never mad. He was sweet and gentle; a good lover and a good man.

Tonight wasn't about Mark. It was about her and the desperate surrender to her darker self. There was confidence in darkness. Strength in the parts of herself she had denied since the ice moon and the blowing wind. She'd left something there: a recklessness, and a kind of confidence that lived in her soul.

Tugging her panties down from her hips, she let them slip away. Chakotay's hand found a way down the welcoming neckline of her dress and teased one of her nipples erect. He ran his hand to the other breast, crushing it just enough to make her gasp.

Only he heard it, the music was too loud and the laughter beyond the wall was enough to swallow any sound of hers. Chakotay smiled up at her, wriggling beneath her to free himself from his trousers. Reaching down to assist, she tugged them half off and ran herself over his hips. The heat of his arousal was just beneath her and desire made her wet and aching. The slightest brush of her against him and he chuckled.

"I want you," she whispered into his ear. Writhing across him again, she stopped against his stomach.

"Then take me," Chakotay answered her, holding her cheek.

Wrapping her fingers around his penis, she paused, hovering over him and teasing it harder with her fingers. "You surrender?" Kathryn asked, nibbling his ear.

He arched up against her, tightening his grip on her shoulder. Chakotay studied her, feasting on her eyes. Understanding made him chuckle and it vibrated deep in his chest.

"No," he answered, taking her head roughly in his hand. "Not at all."

He tugged her head to the side, exposing her neck to his mouth. As the heat of his mouth moved downward, he took advantage of her distraction and dropped both hands to her hips. Poised as they were, a breath from contact, his rough hands pulled her down and drove him in. Shock drove her teeth down into the skin of his shoulder. Stretched, yet not quite full, she rocked into him.

"No surrender," she whispered, then moaned. His hands were strong and insistent as he guided her. Once she found her own speed, Chakotay buried his fingers in her hair.

"I think people surrender to you too often," he replied to her breasts. "You're always ahead, always winning, always perfect-"

Stopping above him, with him buried to his hips inside of her, she kissed his chin. When Kathryn nipped along his jaw, Chakotay sank his fingers into the skin of her back, making the muscles beneath sing with his touch.

"I'm not perfect," she argued, dragging his hand back to her breast.

His fingers found her nipple again and circled it until it was hard. "I find that hard to believe," he retorted. "Especially like this." His voice was breathy and ragged.

Sweat formed on her skin and caught in her hair. The fabric of her dress sighed between them and she dropped down to his chest. That angle changed the pressure within her and as much as she wanted to kiss him, she had to pull back.

Arching back away from him, she rested her hands on his waist. His caught her thigh, holding her in place and removing any worries she had for balance. Increasing speed turned strokes into pulses, each of them a maddening heat that cut to the core of her. The trembling, tingling release began in the back of her skull and crept downwards. As if her head was melting down to meet the wet walls that surrounded his penis.

He gripped her breast, then ran his fingers over her swollen lips. She caught the tip of one between her teeth and sucked until her gasping cry made it impossible to do anything but wait for breath.

The fingers in her mouth flew to the back of her neck, hauling her down to meet his eyes.

"Look at me," Chakotay demanded.

Catching his face in her hands, she twitched, then shuddered through the rest of her climax. All the while, his dark eyes held her as if she were the most precious thing in the universe.

Kathryn believed him, and that thought sent as much heat through her as his release within. She kissed him again, devouring his lips as if she could find the soul within and hold it in her mouth. For this moment, while her head spun and her body hummed, her heart had peace. He knew her. Chakotay had seen through her as if he were the telepath, not Ambassador Troi.

She hid her astonishment with innocent laughter as they looked for her panties in the darkness. There was something within him that she needed and there was something within her that he'd found. How had she been so lost?

His kiss good night held promise, as if his tongue against hers could bind them together. "Thank you."

Kathryn shook her head and eased shaky fingers through tangles in her hair. "You're thanking me?"

"You gave me a very special gift, Kathryn Janeway of the _Enterprise_."

"That's the blessed _Enterprise_ to you," she corrected him. Her cheeks turned scarlet in the darkness as she blushed and pulled back on her panties over damp thighs.

"It is truly a blessed vessel," he insisted, touching her cheek once more. "To carry such as you."

Closing her eyes before she lost herself forever, Kathryn kissed him good-bye. "I can't-"

"I won't ask."

"I wou-" the word caught on her tongue before she betrayed herself.

"I know." His smile eased the tightness of her chest. "That's what makes you so extraordinary."


End file.
